


Marriage Errors

by satonawall



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satonawall/pseuds/satonawall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana doesn’t want Brittany to marry Prince Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marriage Errors

Santana slammed the door shut with as much force as she could muster. It shook on its hinges, but didn’t break, which was good because she was in no mood to go around apologising for the damage and asking the blacksmith and the carpenter to make a new one.  
  
Today she just wanted to storm into the gardens and get lost in the giant maze that was the gardener’s pride and joy, and then maybe emerge into another reality.  
  
Preferably one where Brittany was not going to marry Prince Sam.

It could have been worse, she thought as she marched into the maze and took a left. Sam was utterly harmless as far as princes went, far more interested in expanding his collection of antique swords than in ruling the kingdom on equal footing with Brittany, or worse, usurping Brittany’s power altogether because someone who understood her needed to translate Brittany’s thoughts for the general public.  
  
But Brittany should not have been marrying ‘utterly harmless’; she should have been marrying ‘extraordinary’ because Brittany was extraordinary. And there was no prince in any of the seven kingdoms who was extraordinary enough for Brittany. Santana should know; she’d seen and judged them all.  
  
Santana kicked a stone. Brittany should have been marrying Santana, except Santana was just the lowly daughter of a knight and Brittany was the future queen. It could never happen.  
  
She reached the stone again and kicked it further this time. Maybe, when she’d walk out of the maze it would actually be to a different reality, one where Brittany was an esteemed ladies’ maid in the castle and a match with a knight’s daughter with a position in court would be not only highly advantageous but also practically expected. Or to one where Santana was the younger daughter of an ailing Queen from a mysterious eighth kingdom and had been sent to Brittany’s parents as a hostage in her youth, brought up with Brittany and eventually married her in a royal ceremony befitting of a union between the two grandest kingdoms in the world.  
  
This time, when she reached the stone, she missed and accidentally kicked the ground, somehow almost falling down, so forceful was her kick.  
  
Santana bit her lip and told herself not to cry.  
  
“Santana!”  
  
Especially not now, she thought as she turned around and tried to force the pain (all of it, about everything) out of her mind. She’d already quarrelled with Brittany once this morning about Sam; there was no point in estranging herself from Brittany completely before the wedding so that Santana would never see her again.  
  
(Actually, perhaps that was exactly what she should do; at least then she wouldn’t have to torture herself watching Brittany explain to Sam about the castle’s many insects and how they were all an elaborate plot to protect her.)  
  
“Hi, Brittany,” she said, her eyes briefly flashing up to Brittany before dropping to the ground again.  
  
That was the respectful way to greet royals anyway, wasn’t it?  
  
“I’m sorry about being mean to you this morning,” Brittany said. “Dad and I had just talked and I was just really excited and I didn’t want anything to ruin it.”  
  
Santana bit her lip. Try as she might, with Brittany there, she could never purposefully move away from her.  
  
“I guess I could have not said that Sam could fit seven caramel apples in his mouth without even trying,” she said to Brittany’s feet.  
  
“I accept your apology, too,” Brittany said and darted forwards to pull Santana into a hug.  
  
Feebly, she put her hands on Brittany’s waist. Maybe, with time, it would stop hurting that hugs meant different things to her and to Brittany.  
  
Once Brittany pulled away, she took Santana’s arm, linked it with her own and began guiding Santana forwards. “Can we talk about the wedding now?”  
  
She hoped Brittany didn’t hear her swallow. “I guess so, if you want to.”  
  
“I do.” Brittany jumped a little. “I’m really excited. I want the theme to be clouds because it’s going to be like heaven all the time once we’re married.”  
  
“Sounds spectacular,” Santana said, trying to stop her chin from hitting her collar. Head held up high, pretend ropes holding your shoulders, walk on like you’re stepping on pieces of glass but they don’t hurt you.  
  
Even her noble ‘I don’t care’ walk wasn’t making her feel any more capable of acting the part.  
  
“And clouds can be red.” Brittany’s voice sounded less excited now, like she had to really work for that bubbliness that usually came so naturally to her. “So all the clothes would match.”  
  
“That’s great.”  
  
Brittany came to a halt suddenly, and Santana almost tripped from the pull of her hand on Santana’s arm.  
  
She turned around to say something, but the words died in her throat as she took in Brittany’s quivering lower lip. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Brittany looked away. “Nothing.”  
  
“No-“ She put her hand on Brittany’s shoulder; it was all she could do as long as Brittany didn’t let go of her arm. “Something’s obviously wrong.”  
  
Maybe Brittany didn’t want to marry Sam. Maybe they would run away together.  
  
Or, more realistically, maybe Brittany didn’t love Sam and would take Santana on as a mistress in secret. Santana bit her lip. She’d have thought that would be a reassuring thought, but it turned out it wasn’t. It just made her stomach tie itself into knots.  
  
“A little,” Brittany said, and Santana could see tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.  
  
“It looks like a lot.”  
  
Brittany huffed. It came off less defiant than she’d probably intended. “You don’t want the marriage, do you?”  
  
Santana was quiet for a long while before she answered. She’d always been bad at lying to Brittany; that would be her downfall now.  
  
“No, no I don’t. How could I?”  
  
Brittany’s unlinked their arms, and Santana had to hold onto her shoulder so that she wouldn’t lose her grip as Brittany turned away.  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say-“ Say it like that. I did mean it.  
  
When Brittany spoke, it was through tears. She might have as well stabbed Santana with a dagger.  
  
“I thought you wanted it, too.”  
  
She stepped closer and threw her arms around Brittany, who came willingly, sobbing against her shoulder. Santana had to fight really hard to keep tears out of her own voice.  
  
“Why would I ever want you to marry Sam when I love you so much?”  
  
“Because I love you and I thought you loved m-“ Brittany straightened suddenly, her tear-stained eyes searching Santana’s. “What did you say?”  
  
Santana stared at her. “What did you say?”  
  
“I said I wanted to marry you because I love you and I thought you loved me,” Brittany said. “Mum and dad said it would be okay and Sam probably won’t be mad because now he can marry Mercedes. But you don’t want me so-“  
  
“Of course I want you!” Santana realised too late she’d shouted it. Brittany blinked; it made a tear fall off her eyelash. “I- Brittany, I thought you meant your wedding to Sam, I was in agony because I thought you wanted me to listen to you talk on and on about your wedding to someone else-“  
  
“No,” Brittany said, and finally, her lips curled up in a smile. “I wanted to plan our wedding together because we’ll be together forever.”  
  
Santana laughed, and she laughed harder when Brittany spun her around from joy, and then she stopped laughing when Brittany pulled her against herself, hugged her close and pushed her lips against Santana’s in a passionate kiss.  
  
—  
  
“So,” Brittany said once Santana had thoroughly lost count on how many kisses they’d exchanged, “does that mean that you actually think the red clouds are a good idea for the wedding?”  
  
“Yes,” Santana said. It felt like her voice would break any moment. “I think they’re a wonderful idea for our wedding.”


End file.
